i don't know if i've made the right decision about my life anymore.

i must have been pms'ing REALLY bad when i went through that mental breakdown. things seemed so awful that i couldn't even go on anymore. it was like i was going to die if i didn't come back home and get into counselling. like there was no other way to do things.

i dropped out of school, let everyone know my intentions, and then i waited. waited to get my laptop fixed, waited to hear what was going to happen with my winter coat. waited to see when i could book my plane ticket. waited. and as time went on, things started getting better. damieon (and everyone else) was easier to handle, my problems were easier to handle... life was easier to handle.

by then, there really was no turning back. i'd dropped out of school and arranged my trip home. i didn't want to leave anymore; i didn't want to leave my friends, my apartment, my life away from home. but it was too late.

i bet i could have hacked it out there, tried to make the best out of things, stayed in school. even if i did flunk out, it wouldn't have made my situation worse because either way, the cost for this semester would have come out of my own pocket if i failed. and if i didn't fail, great.

but i guess it's too late to ponder all that stuff now, huh?

now i'm stuck here, in this crap town, with no friends. no responsibility, no life. i don't even feel like counselling anymore, and my dad keeps making me feel guilty for coming back and wasting all that money. i feel guilty because i feel like i just quit when i could have found another way to go on.

and when i type it all out, it makes me feel even worse.

someone, please make it all go away.

I'm wearing: baby tee, sweater, stretchy jeans, butterfly socks, butterfly slippers
I'm listening to: hold on *bif naked*
I'm thinking: that beefaroni kicked ass